Of Amber and Shattered Scales

.002 - in which a bargain is made

Eyes squinted to block out the desert sun, Elsho and I headed toward the courthouse. We walked confidently - we were miles from the market, and news of our job wouldn't have traveled that fast. The sun was at its highest point, and every step brought another gust of warm heat. I was regretting not staying in the alley where it was cool, and dark, and there was shade. The only thing keeping me going was the promise of water at the end.

It wasn't very far, only about two miles, but in the blistering heat, our bodies had ended up parched. Luckily, the weathered limestone building had pulled into view, and we practically crawled in. We were lucky that this courthouse wasn't policed like so many other courthouses were; since there were so many crimes happening in the town, people tended to just not report anything, and so the building didn't need to be guarded.

I know, reverse psychology, but people didn't have time to dispute things officially. That's why they hired us. It was an easier way to get revenge.

Stealing the water bottles wasn't hard. We just walked into a supply room, and there they were: large terracotta pots holding gallons of water, and waterskins to carry the water. Many public buildings had these large water rooms due to the unthinkable amount of times dehydrated people tended to show up at doorsteps.

After drinking our fill, we sat down for a bit and filled up twelve waterskins - the most we could find. Then we headed to the border, burdened with six pouches of water each. They would definitely last us till the camel junction. We would be able to find water after that.

The trip to the junction was uneventful. Every step the same. We trod on, feet pushing into the grains of sand. Every direction we looked the same - large, towering hills of orange and brown sand, with dried-up, brown trellises snaking across the formations. Eventually, though, the landscape changed.

The air became cooler, turning humid, unlike the moisture-sucking dryness of Zal'Arab. I saw life - a beetle burrowing into the earth. Out of he corner of my eye, I think I saw a mouse scrambling into a shady makeshift burrow.

It may have just been the sun playing on my teary eyes. No matter what, one thing stood undisputed - this sudden increase in vivacity meant the camel juncture was near.

The camel juncture was one of the places that I could see life. Not life as in lush, green forests - you wouldn't see that anywhere near here.

No, there was life in the rippling seas of faded browns that crept into the sunlight, of yellow that melted into the searing sun. There was life in the rippling, muddy water that stood in small puddles speckling dusty pathways. There was life in the people, life in the sweat that poured out of the pores, of bodies pressed against one another, competing for space, transferring heat in a place that was already hot enough to make air shimmer like faerie wings around you.

I pulled Elsho along behind me as I dove into this ocean of life. His hand gripped onto my forearm, slippery and cramped from the heat. Still, he didn't let go as we pressed straight through the bodies, plowing through the crowd as we made our way to the ticket-station.

"Ticket to Raat'kaala!" I shouted at the ticket-hawker.

"That will cost three pinnahs," He bellowed back, "but a tip would be appreciated."

"Three?" I shrieked back, "I'll take one for two, and that'll be a good deal."

"Three's all I'll do."

"Two and a quarter."

"Two and three quarters, and I'm staying there," he boomed back.

"Two and a half," I spit.